A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Mayhem - Manda Collins Page 0,21
was difficult to believe the woman he’d seen at the police assembly in London was the same polished sophisticate who stood before him now. It was even more of a stretch to believe that this was the same woman who had interviewed a Spitalfields barmaid about what she’d witnessed the evening before a murder.
Eversham watched her, as if for the first time, while she crossed the lushly carpeted floor and couldn’t help noticing the sway of her hips as she walked. Her gown—a bright blue silk that complemented her dark hair—was expertly made and accentuated her figure in a subtle, but nonetheless enticing manner. Her nose was a bit too long and her lips too thin for her to be called beautiful, but there was a liveliness in her eyes that belied the placidity of her face as a whole. This woman would not be a good liar. Her eyes would always give away the game.
She was also rather tall, which he’d noticed in London. It would have been impossible not to when all those curves had been pressed tightly against him the day they’d met. He’d forgotten in the time since then, but he certainly remembered it now.
Realizing the direction of his thoughts, Eversham shook his head a little and moved to take the chair opposite hers. This was the woman whose writing had seriously endangered his career and made it possible for a murderer—perhaps the one who’d killed the man she found dead—to go free. He could not afford to forget it.
His wandering thoughts firmly back under control, he was about to begin the interview when he was forestalled.
“I don’t believe I ever thanked you,” she said, “for rescuing me that day. You certainly didn’t have to. And if you hadn’t, well, I’m not sure what would have happened.” She perched on the edge of her chair, very obviously not relaxed, but to her credit, didn’t avoid his gaze as she spoke.
He hadn’t expected it, and for a moment he was taken off guard: both by the apology, and by the fact that she, too, was thinking about the circumstances under which they’d met.
Still, he was here to do a job. A job he wanted very much to hold on to. So it would be best if he stuck to the matter at hand.
“It was no more than I’d have done for any other lady who found herself in need of assistance that day,” he said curtly. “Though you might have told me about your title. You didn’t correct me when I called you ‘Mrs.’”
“Would it have made a difference in the way you treated me?” she asked. He felt as if he were being subjected to some sort of test. But he wasn’t here to play games.
“Yes,” Eversham said baldly. “But not the way you think, I imagine. If possible, I’d have been cooler. I have no great fondness for the aristocracy.”
The way Eversham’s father’s family had treated him after his marriage to someone they considered beneath them had long colored the way Eversham felt about the upper classes. Not only because of his affection for his mother, but also because he’d seen the toll his family’s rejection had had upon his father. He was a man who cared deeply about people. It’s what made the elder Eversham such a good clergyman. But that was neither here nor there.
Lady Bascomb winced at his words. But she didn’t look away. “You have every right to be angry, Mr. Eversham. But you must understand that we had no inkling that our column would be used by Wargrove to arrest the wrong man. You must believe me when I say that.”
“Ignorance of the possible consequences of your actions is no excuse, my lady,” Eversham said sharply. “You could have come to me when you realized I’d missed interviewing Lizzie Grainger. Instead you published her words for all the world to see. Not only did you give my colleagues a means of bolstering their arrest of the wrong man, you let the actual killer know that he was seen that night, possibly putting Lizzie Grainger’s life in danger.”
All the color drained from Lady Katherine’s face and Eversham cursed himself for a fool. “Is that true? I should go back to London at once. Or at the very least send word to have her checked on. It never even occurred to me—though it should have—that by giving us that interview, she was risking her own life.”